


Neither Here Nor There

by TheSSClexa



Series: The Pilot Series [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: CRC, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Special, Clexa Rub Club, Excuse to continue this story, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hot Pilot Lexa, Modern AU, Photojournalist Clarke, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 03:37:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13138269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSSClexa/pseuds/TheSSClexa
Summary: Christmas special, one shot sequel to First Class with international pilot Lexa and photojournalist Clarke.All necessary details are present in this one shot, so you don't need to read First Class prior to this, though I highly recommend it!





	Neither Here Nor There

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to my lovely readers! Enjoy!

> December 25th – Christmas Day

Making the drive to pick up Clarke at McCarran Airport, Las Vegas, Lexa doesn’t remember feeling so nervous in a long time. The sentiment paralleled their first kiss shared in a Paris elevator over a year and half ago. They had talked about it, but yet to make a definitive decision. Thank goodness Clarke said she needed two weeks for some work conference preparation before the holidays as Lexa prepped her southwest cabin property located an hour outside of Vegas for rental. Putting most of her things in storage and packing a bigger suitcase, she planned on surprising Clarke as a Christmas gift by finally moving to Chicago to live with her.

It was a bold move, very bold. But they had been living long distance for almost a year now and quite frankly, Lexa was sick of the travel. Ironic considering her occupation as an airline pilot, but bestriding two homes was getting tiring.

Half of Lexa’s wardrobe had migrated to Clarke’s over the months, including several secondary sets of pilot uniforms Lexa purchased and vice versa. Additionally, Lexa rerouted many of her flights out of Chicago O’Hare for more overnighters with Clarke, as much as she hated flying out of Chicago because of its shitty weather and constant delays.

The most difficult thing was packing up her desk up on the cabin loft, which used to contain a single laptop and small display of pens, had transformed into Clarke’s secondary workspace scattered with post-its, photos, notes and an added laptop. Lexa took care when packing Clarke’s work-related belongings into a plastic tote that now sat next to her suitcase in the back of her Range Rover.

Lexa had it all planned out. She was going to put the car in long-term parking until she could return and drive it to Chicago, maybe even an impromptu road trip with Clarke? With two tickets in hand, Lexa was going to make Clarke turn around and fly back home to Chicago. Hey, being an airline pilot came with its perks including free travel vouchers. Lexa had to pull a few strings for the holiday dates, but it wasn’t very difficult. Clarke was probably going to be upset about flying right back to Chicago, but Lexa was going to pay her girlfriend back in sexual favors, lots and lots of sexual favors.

-

Stepping off the plane, Clarke couldn’t remember feeling so nervous. Maybe when she first kissed Lexa in the Paris elevator over a year and half ago? Her heart was racing, palms sweating despite the winter weather, and stomach twisting into a knot that etched its way up her throat. Going to baggage claim, Clarke anxiously retrieved two suitcases this time.

It was a brazen move, but they had talked about it for months and Clarke considered it to be the perfect Christmas surprise. Working out a telework schedule with Kane and the magazine, Clarke only needed to be in Chicago a few days out of the month and living with Lexa on the outskirts of Vegas was definitely doable. Lying to Lexa about a two week conference, though for the better, Clarke took those weeks to prepare and sell her Chicago studio apartment and finally move in with Lexa. Movers had packed everything into a portable storage pod except for Clarke’s own work essentials and Lexa’s wardrobe, which she herself meticulously organized in a second suitcase. Lexa was going to notice right away and Clarke was eager to see the look on her face when she broke the news.

-

Driving up to the curb, Lexa spots Clarke with two suitcases. That’s odd, now thinking that Clarke was just going to have to turn around and haul them back.

“Hey baby,” says Lexa with a wide smile as she exited the vehicle to hug Clarke with a big, welcoming kiss. “Why do you have two suitcases?”

Kissing back, “Oh um, the other one is a surprise. Kinda Christmas present.”

“And you needed a suitcase to carry it?”

“Well, sort of,” replies Clarke.

Reaching for the back gate and lifting it open, Clarke spots a plastic tote alongside Lexa’s suitcase.

“Lexa… why is there a tote with your suitcase in the back?”

“Oh um, it’s kind of a Christmas surprise.”

“And you needed a tote to carry it?”

Cars, shuttles and busses buzz by in the busy airport as Clarke and Lexa look at each other in curiosity. Sounds of car doors opening and closing, other loved ones hugging and kissing surround them.

“Well, um,” stutters Lexa, she had been so excited about the entire move that she never rehearsed the actuals words.

Feeling her chest drop and heat flush through her neck in unease, “Why don’t you go first?” Lexa stalls.

“Okay…” replies Clarke, now a little off-put, “Well…”

Clarke had also not thought about how exactly she was going to tell Lexa. Equally too eager, she didn’t think beyond the thrill. Her eyes began to meander as she searched for words, this was completely unlike her. Eyes landing back on the tote, Clarke spots one of her own handwritten post-its, fallen and sitting on the vehicle back liner.

“Is that... why is my work post-it in the back of the car..?” says Clarke, now inquiringly provoked and reaching for the tote.

“Clarke, wait- ”

But it was too late as Clarke pops off the tote lid to find her work belongings, all of them. Confused… _Is Lexa breaking up with me_? No, it can’t be.

“Lexa, what is this?”

“I- uh, we’re not going back to my place,” Lexa blurts in the most inelegant way.

Clarke’s face drops in shock. _Oh my god, Lexa didn’t want this._ Maybe she really was breaking up with her and packed all her belongings in a tote to give back.

“What?” is Clarke’s only response.

“I mean… we’re not going back to my place because… I’m moving, moving in with um, you?” Lexa stutters even more, increasingly questioning her decision as the seconds passed.

 _Oh thank god she’s not breaking up with me. Wait what? Move in with me?_  

“What? Move it, with me? You can’t…” Clarke is speechless, mind racing. Her place is sold. **Gone.**

Now Lexa is thoroughly concerned with the way Clarke is looking at her. _What was wrong?_

Lexa sets into her own panic _. Oh my god, Clarke didn’t want this. Oh fuck, Clarke didn’t want this._ This all went terribly wrong. She knew it was too daring of a move.

“But... Clarke, why? We… were doing so well... I just thought…” Lexa stammers.

“No Lexa… we can’t…because, because my place is sold,” say Clarke, finally regaining so composure.

“Sold?! What do you mean sold?”

“I mean, it’s sold. I -  I um, was planning on... moving in with you,” admits Clarke, wincing to wait for Lexa’s reaction, “Merry Christmas?”

Lexa’s panicked face slowly transforms into a huge smile as she breaks into laughter.

“Clarke, I just spent the last two weeks prepping my place, it’s been rented,” replies Lexa with a guilty grin, “We can’t go back there.”

Clarke also begins to laugh at the realization and reaches out embrace Lexa, now laughing against each other. Shoulders bouncing and throats resonate in amusement as their eyes glimmer with the reflection of airport lights and moving cars.

“So, Merry Christmas to you too,” says Lexa, leaning in to kiss her girlfriend.

“Mmm,” Clarke moans softly, sinking into a soft and familiar kiss until a blaring honking horn startles them.

“C’mon, let’s go,” says Lexa, helping Clarke with the extra suitcase.

Automatically, getting into the passenger seat, “Wait, Lex? Where are we even going? We’re homeless.”

Lexa shifts her car into drive out of habit, but continues to hold the brake. “Oh my God, we are homeless.”

“At least we’re homeless together,” Clarke mitigates with sarcasm.

“I don’t even know where I’m supposed to go.”

“Well, as a travel journalist, I do know that Las Vegas has the most number of hotel rooms in the US.”

“Ugh, another hotel Clarke? I was so looking forward to your bed.”

“Well, my bed is in a storage pod right now. We really can’t go back to your place?”

“No, we can’t. I handed my new tenants the keys this morning, they were ecstatic to have a place on _and_ for Christmas. I can’t kick them out for any reason other than my own poor planning.”

“Hey! It was a good plan… I had the same one,” says Clarke as they smile at each other, acknowledging the irony but also, their like-mindedness. Another indication as to why they were so good together.

While they talk, a traffic cop has noticed their stopped vehicle, no longer loading, and now urging Lexa to drive, pointing forward with consistent whistles.

Waving, Lexa acknowledges and begins to creep forward and into the far, moving lane.

“I know where we can go,” says Lexa with a promising grin and stepping on the gas pedal.

“Where?”

“Do you trust me?” asks Lexa, craftily displaying allure behind her eyes.

Clarke loved this look on Lexa, it was rare, and she cherished it, like everything else about this green eyed brunette. The past year and a half had been more ideal than a dream, Lexa was the perfect girlfriend and Clarke only hoped to return the same. Make Lexa feel the way she did. Special.

For the most part, Lexa was fairly scheduled, an organized and thought-out person, but every now and then, would pop with a surprise that filled Clarke’s heart more than she thought possible. Like when she had secretly taken time off work to surprise Clarke during her workweek in Australia, and now this, renting her place to move in with Clarke. Clarke didn’t expect Lexa to make such an audacious move, but always had full trust in her girlfriend. When Lexa made a decision, it was always 100%, she never teetered with uncertainty and Clarke loved that about her.

“Is that even a real question? Of course I trust you,” Clarke replies.

Exiting the highway, Lexa turns onto the main Vegas drive. Lights upon lights illuminate the black asphalt before them and penetrate the darkened desert sky. It was literally lights upon lights, billboards decorated with Christmas colored bulbs, hotels and other establishments engulfed by holiday decorations; blow up candy canes, toy soldiers, fake reindeer and elves, extravagant Christmas trees, and most entertaining of all, random people dressed as Santa Claus amongst the pedestrians. A lot of them.

“God, I don’t even remember the last time I was on the strip,” says Lexa, feeling a little overwhelmed while she navigated through traffic and J-walkers crossing the street.

Clarke smiles when Lexa pulls up to a half-scale replica of the Eiffel Tower  visibly ahead, Paris Las Vegas. Looking over at Lexa, they both revere at the memory of the real Paris. The city where they first got together, a one night stand that lasted much longer than a single night and looking more like a lifetime.  

∞

“Good evening, welcome to Paris Las Vegas, do you have reservations?” the man behind the counter greets.

“Hi, no reservations, but is the penthouse still available?” Lexa asks.

Clarke gasps, turning and looking at her girlfriend in disbelief, “Lexa.”

“What? I just collected my first and last month’s rent.”

“Oh, I’m sorry but the penthouse is no longer available. We’re completely booked full for tonight. Reservations only. Sorry.”

“Oh,” Lexa replies in disappointment, “There’s really nothing?”

Clicking the keyboard, “Let me check… well…” the gentleman hesitates, but continues, “I could offer you… the honeymoon suite?”

“The honeymoon suite?”

“Yes… the couple… canceled last minute,” he replies demurely.

Clarke watches carefully as her girlfriend gives it some consideration, very light and brief consideration before nodding a yes, “We’ll take it,” says Lexa, placing her airline logoed credit card on the counter.

“And would either of you care to add any VIP or spa packages to your stay?”

Lexa was about to decline when Clarke slaps her own credit card on the counter, “We’ll take both,” says Clarke.

This time, Lexa turns to look at her girlfriend in surprise, “Clarke.”

“What? I don’t have mortgage to pay anymore,” Clarke reflects, and turns back to gentleman, “So what’s in the VIP and spa packages?”

The man nods, typing in their information before looking up, “Well, the VIP includes front row tickets to the Paris Opera House showing every night at 9pm, $100 gambling credit, each, complimentary food and beverage service, which includes our buffet and the access to…” he pulls out a spa brochure resting on the counter, opening the main fold, he circles the honeymoon package, “and access to everything listed in our honeymooner package.”

Gathering the noted brochure, a pair of hotel keycards, and their credit cards back, the gentleman hands the small stack back to Lexa.

“Thank you,” says Lexa.

“Oh, and um,” the gentleman reaches under the counter, producing a small gift basket with block letters: NEWLYWEDS. “And this… comes with the room, if, you’d like?”

“Um… sure,” says Lexa, glancing at Clarke for a brief second with a “Why not?” furrowed look that Clarke agreed to. 

“We’ll have your luggage brought up to you in a few minutes. Please enjoy your stay and feel free to let us know if there’s anything else you need. Elevators are directly down to your left,” he gestures, “And your card will grant you access to the suite floor.”

“Thank you,” replies Lexa with wide grin, quickly grabbing Clarke’s hand and leading her along.

Elevators.

Leaning back against the elevator buttons, Lexa pulls Clarke in for a kiss. A kiss that never seemed to get old and well, making out in elevators was a recurring theme for both frequent travelers. Stumbling into the imitation gold lined walls with painted clouds overhead, they can feel the smiles on each other’s mouths, humming giggles with more kisses. Trading familiar sweet pecks with light flicks of tongue until Clarke and Lexa are interrupted when the elevator reopens to an awaiting older couple.

Neither had pressed the button to go up, still on the first floor.

Clarke clears her throat and leans away from Lexa to regain some composure, hands still linked, but both with a childish guilty grin on their faces like they had been caught by their own parents.

“Floor?” Clarke casually asks.

“Eight, please,” the gentleman replies.

Pushing the number eight, Clarke also presses one of the buttons on the top row without a numerical value, but the letter “S”, except, the button fails to stay lit.

“Oh, key card? Lex?”

“Oh, yeah, here” pulling their room key for Clarke to scan in order to gain access to the top floor.

The elevator stops at the number eight with an audible ding. As the couple exits, the lady turns around, “You two dears enjoy your honeymoon,” smilingly pointing at the basket in Lexa’s arms, “My son just got married last week and he and his husband are on their way to Maui. Have a lovely Christmas,” she finishes.

Surprised, but also flattered at the woman’s thoughtfully aimed words, Clarke and Lexa greet back in hesitant consideration, unwilling to correct the nice woman, “Oh… um…thanks… thank… thank you! Merry Christmas!”

Chuckling at each other as the elevator doors closed, Clarke wanted to make a teasing joke like, “I sure hope our real honeymoon isn’t going to be in Vegas,” but with full disclosure to Lexa’s tragic past, i.e. the death of Costia, her deceased wife near six years ago, Clarke didn’t go there.

They were just moving in together and had not even touched the subject of marriage, though the thought easily and frequently lingered in the back of Clarke’s mind. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when, but absolutely knew that she was going to marry Lexa. However, considering Lexa’s past, would undoubtedly have to wait for Lexa to show signs of readiness.

Clarke is utterly flabbergasted just before the elevator reaches the suite floor when Lexa says, “Considering our occupations, I sure hope we don’t end up in Vegas for our real honeymoon,” says Lexa with a quirked eyebrow.

No, Lexa did not slip up. Clarke knew the woman before her well enough by now, calculated and deliberate.

“Lex…” Clarke says, revealing her surprise crossed with skepticism in her tone.

Clarke was patient and didn’t want to make Lexa feel rushed in anyway, never hinting at the subject, fearful that it was “too soon” and quite possibly scaring Lexa away. Though she knew Lexa didn’t scare easy, and the thought was quite irrational, Clarke couldn’t help the feeling.

“It’s okay Clarke,” replies Lexa with reassuring eyes, “I’m okay,” leaning in for short, but deep kiss, “I have you now, remember?”   

Clarke’s heart warms like a perfectly toasted marshmallow at a campfire, happily letting a smirk escape and pulling Lexa in for another kiss. They arrive to their floor too quickly, the doors open before they can finish their ongoing kiss. Lips still pressed together, Lexa kicks a foot out between the closing doors, causing them to reopen and reluctantly peels herself away from her girlfriend.

“Mmm…c’mon Clarke, let’s go finish this,” she whispers in slight breathlessness.

Clarke and Lexa giddily make it down the hallway, almost skipping with excitement and anticipation. Entering the honeymoon suite, they’re greeted by the sight of the Las Vegas strip through ceiling high windows, an enormous Christmas tree, and a bottle of champagne plus two glasses with a standard “Congratulations” note on the coffee table.

Dropping Clarke’s hand, Lexa sets the basket down and walks over to a set of light switches, casually studying before picking and flipping a far switch that sat alone. And to her satisfaction, the switch lit the gas fire place like a set of dominoes. Flames roll past red, white and green colored glass marbles in the fire place that gives the suite a warm, campfire like glow.

“Knew it,” says Lexa to herself with a slightly cocky smile while watching Clarke wander into the bedroom.

She hears Clarke gasp, followed by a, “Leeexxxx…”

Lexa easily recognized Clarke’s tone… teasing, tempting, seductive.

Joining Clarke in the bedroom, she spots the source of Clarke’s dirty thoughts. A hot tub _in_ the room, built alongside the bedroom wall and adjacent to the kind bed.

“Oh this is happening,” says Clarke.

Immediately reaching and turning the faucet, hot water begins to fill the white tub when Clarke feels her girlfriend’s arms around her waist.

Pulling Clarke back, Lexa nuzzles into the back of her neck with light nips, causing her to giggle and shy away in a tickle. Lexa happily hums at Clarke’s reaction, quickly spinning her around and landing a kiss on the blonde’s lips.

Reaching underneath Clarke’s shirt, Lexa runs her hands up warm skin. Two weeks had been too long. While they had become accustomed to their long distance schedule and seeing each other weeks at a time, each time always sparked with new arousal. Reigniting and rediscovering.

Clarke’s breath catches when Lexa’s hands graze by the outside of her bra, teasing by her nipples with added touch. She exhales a wanting sigh into Lexa’s mouth.

Just as Lexa is about to pull Clarke’s shirt and sweater over her head, the bell rings, halting their progress. Lexa leans away, but not before Clarke claws back at Lexa’s own clothes, drawing the brunette back in for a deep, deep kiss with a smooth and deft tongue, hot against her mouth.

“Mmmm, Clarke,” Lexa barely pries herself away, “It’s our luggage, the door... just… let…me,” Lexa struggles as Clarke continues to grip her coat, finally rolling out of her jacket one arm at a time and letting the outer garment carelessly drop on the floor.

Reluctantly leaving the room, Lexa opens the door to the bellhop with two suitcases.

“Evening Mrs…” the bellhop continues to read a small piece of paper, probably with both Clarke and Lexa’s name on the ticket since they provided two credit cards, “Mrs. Woods-Griffin?”

“Uh,” Lexa didn’t want to correct the nice kid, “Yes.”

“Two suitcases,” he picks them up, one in each hand and walks them just inside the entry way.

“Thank you,” replies Lexa, pulling out a few bills to generously tip him.

“Enjoy your honeymoon,” he says, departing with a smile and tip of his hat.

Lexa smiles back with a quick nod as she closes the door, bashfully grinning at the sound of “Woods-Griffin”. She pauses at the thought. Yes, Lexa had been married before and yes, it was a tragic loss. But Costia was now a distant memory, no longer tainted with pain, but just something that was part of her past. It no longer dictated her approach on life, completely changed and made whole again by the one and only, Clarke Griffin. And God did it make Lexa stupid happy, thinking about marrying Clarke.

She and Costia had gotten married fairly young, just a few months after graduating college. And quite honestly, Lexa didn’t know where Clarke stood with the ideology, the blonde yet to mention or hint at it. It was early, only a year and half into their relationship, but she never anticipated fall in love again, and even more, so painstakingly and unequivocally in love again. Her mind was essentially made up, fully influenced by her heart. And now, it was just a matter of time. A waiting game for Clarke to show signs of readiness.

“Lexa! What the heck are you doing out there?!” she hears Clarke from the master suite.

Shaking her head out of her daydream, Lexa spots the bottle of champagne as her excuse.

“Uh! Just opening the champagne!” Lexa replies, grabbing the bottle and quickly working the cork. And of course, the cork doesn’t cooperate as she twists and pull.

“Goddammit,” Lexa mutters to herself.

“Oh…Lex…” Clarke teases.

Lexa looks up from her struggle to find Clarke leaning against the door frame, stripped down to her bra and underwear. Except it wasn’t Clarke’s normal undergarment, but matching red bra and thong. Laced. Lots of lace.

The champagne cork instantly pops, hitting the ceiling and bubbles spill out and over the neck of the bottle.

“Oh shit,” Lexa grips the bottle like a pre-ejaculation, quickly snagging one of the table napkins to control the liquid.

Clarke chuckles, turning to give Lexa full view of her perfectly round ass and saunters into the bedroom. Lexa’s mouth goes dry and she takes a swig straight from the bottle, grabbing the two glasses and quickly following along. Still in disbelief that _this_ woman was her girlfriend and regretting not starting things earlier all those months ago, when they’d first met. But, fate had a different plan, unexpectedly bringing them together until Lexa could no longer deny her feelings for the blonde. A beautiful surrender that Lexa was ever more grateful for.

-

Setting the bottle and glasses down on the entry table, Lexa is practically drooling as Clarke waits patiently, sitting at the edge of the tub. For some reason, only Clarke had this effect on her, turning Lexa into a bumbling idiot. Forget about the calculated pilot, careful and meticulous. Lexa continued to fall head over heels for her girlfriend each time she saw her.

Pulling off her shoes in a hop, Lexa strips down as quickly as possible to join Clarke, never breaking eye contact.

Clarke wasn’t the only one with a new sexy outfit as Lexa reveals her own set of black laced undergarments, pleasantly watching as Clarke’s eyes went wide with the thirst of desire, drinking in Lexa’s trim body.

Glancing at the tub, it was barely an inch deep. Large tubs _really_ don’t fill up that fast, and Lexa didn’t feel like waiting.

Lexa approaches Clarke with intent, offering a hand for Clarke to take like an elegant dance. Walking her girlfriend a few short steps to the bed, Lexa sits and guides Clarke on top in a straddle, savoring the way Clarke’s breasts rested, full and luscious in the bra. Pressing her lips into Clarke’s cleavage, Lexa plants a kiss into Clarke’s chest before ghosting her mouth up the blonde’s neck and landing another kiss with tongues effortlessly gliding.

Reaching around, Lexa traces the lace with her palms, cherishing the feel against Clarke’s soft skin before grabbing the full of Clarke’s ass and pulling her close. It elicits a sigh from the blonde, a sigh that sounded sweeter each time Lexa heard it.

In return, Lexa feels Clarke’s hands roam as they continued to make out. Rummaging through her hair, cupping her face, and tracing the back of her neck. Their kissing turns more desperate, tongues sliding sloppier as the heat between them increases and Clarke now grinding her hips on Lexa’s lap.

In search for more, Clarke reaches behind to unclasp her own bra, wiggling the garment free. Easily reading her girlfriend, Lexa immediate takes a nipple into her mouth while catching the other in between her thumb and forefinger with a roll. Soft nipples immediately grow stiff, and Clarke’s head drops back at the sensation, gripping the back of Lexa’s head.

“Baby, yes,” Clarke sighs.

Dropping a hand, Lexa unclasps her own bra. Tossing it aside, she relinquishes Clarke’s nipple with a sucking pop and pulls the blonde’s chest flush to her own while greedily recapturing her lips.

“Mmmmm,” Clarke moans into Lexa’s mouth, ignoring the strands of hair that have gotten mixed up in-between their mouths.

Unexpectedly, Lexa rolls Clarke around onto her back, causing Clarke to let out a small gasp, but only feels the smile on Lexa’s lips as they continued to kiss. Weighted on top, Lexa is fully able to grind down into Clarke, lace meeting lace that was quickly becoming an impediment. Clarke reaches down to take her thong off when Lexa’s hands stop her.

Opening her eyes to meet Lexa’s in protest, the green forests emphasize a “no”. Everything was _always_ in Lexa’s eyes, and as Clarke learned, most of all, in bed. Unveiled. Raw. Telling.

Pressing a parting kiss on Clarke’s lips, Lexa leads a trail down. First, tracing over Clarke’s nipples to arouse her even more, then pressing softly into her stomach and finally, ending between her legs, nipping at her inner thighs.

Clarke’s hips are squirming with desire, looking for contact when Lexa presses her tongue, hard and flat against the rough material, tasting Clarke through it all. Clarke writhes, raising her hips for more, breathe heavy with frustration and increased arousal.

Peering down, Clarke reads the mischief behind Lexa’s eyes.

“Lex… baby, please…”

Nudging the material aside, Lexa finally makes full contact with Clarke’s sex, hot and swollen. Clarke’s legs close at the sensation and Lexa only pressed in harder. There’s something innately dirty feeling about fucking past underthings, something sinful, yet arousing. Lexa reaches beneath the thin material to feel and rake down the sides of Clarke’s ass, pulling her in.

Lapping and sucking, Lexa works Clarke into a needy mess before delving deep into familiar slickness with her fingers. Dexterously working inner grooves that fluttered around her, Lexa relished the way her lover moved beneath her each and every way, and most of all, the way Lexa’s name spilled out of Clarke’s lips jumbled with delicate sighs and light “fucks”. Clarke looked like a fallen angel.

Adding pressure, Lexa targets the softened flesh on her forefingers with massaging circles, feeling the fist in her hair tighten in response. Clarke’s breathe, ragged and staccato, body teetering on a precipice until it freezes just before the drop. Clarke reaches the peak of her orgasm and Lexa holds her there for a blissful second, a moment of weightlessness.

A wave of release crashes onto Lexa’s fingers, and her tongue masterfully navigates the waves of pleasure that washes over Clarke’s body, guiding and coaxing, until they land safely ashore.

Briefly resting her check on Clarke’s inner thigh, Lexa slowly draws out and kisses her way back up to meet Clarke in the eyes.

Clarke cups her face and leans in for a kiss, parting, “I love you, Lexa.”

Lexa returns with another full kiss on the lips before saying back, “I love you, Clarke.”

While Lexa was happily drowning in Clarke’s blue seas, Clarke breaks their eye contact and shifts her gaze to the tub, now full, with a playful smirk. Matching Clarke’s smirk, Lexa leans up and off and watches Clarke take off her thong. Lexa slips out of her own, seeing no objection in the blonde’s eyes, and well, it was getting incredibly uncomfortable with her own dripping wetness.

Following Clarke to the tub with a permanent smile on her face, Clarke steps in first, sitting down and pulling Lexa atop her lap.

“Mmmm,” Lexa hums, eyes lazily closing and head dropping back as the sensation of hot water and warm skin meshed.

Reconnecting lips, slow and steady, Lexa can feel Clarke’s wandering hands followed by a wandering tongue that leaves her mouth and dips down her neck. She feels both of Clarke’s hands come up her sides and cup her breasts, taking both nipples in-between. Lexa hisses at the sensation shoots down to her already aroused core.

Tilting her head back and chest forward to urge Clarke on, Lexa’s satisfied when she feels Clarke’s hot mouth take over a nipple, tongue thrashing and sucking. Clarke’s free hand easily finds its way down, fingertips brushing Lexa’s enflamed bundle of nerves, working a fine line between slickness and water.

Lexa begins to rock for more, water splashes against the side of the tub and spills over the edges. Neither pays it any attention. Feeling Clarke glide in, Lexa grips the side of the tub, jaw dropping in an exhale that Clarke recaptures with her mouth.

Bobbing up and down, Lexa matches Clarke’s thrusting pace while messily kissing and moaning into her mouth. Large sloshes of water now pour over the sides of the tub, the floor getting wetter as Lexa got louder, eventually tearing away from Clarke’s mouth for more air.

Her orgasm was near, Clarke meeting her with faster and harder thrusts when Clarke slows before briefly pulling out. Lexa looks down in question when Clarke gestures her up and back, pushing Lexa out of the tub to sit on the edge with back against the wall, one leg popped up and over the side. Evidently this is what Clarke had in mind when Clarke leans forward onto her knees, shouldering Lexa’s right leg and taking Lexa in between her lips at the perfect height.

“Fuck Clarke…” Lexa sighs, “God, this is so hot... you’re so fucking hot,” looking down at Clarke eating her out at the edge of a tub. Lexa tightens her grip on Clarke’s damp hair as she felt the blonde’s skilled tongue work her in a different way, insides still wet and aching.

Clarke looks up for brief second, witnessing trails of steam escape from Lexa’s naked and exposed body. “You’re telling me,” she mouths just before continuing.

Head falling back against the wall, Lexa’s legs began to tremble as droplets of water fell from her bare skin. She feels Clarke reenter with a smooth thrust that sends her to the brink. Clarke quickens her tongue and Lexa comes within a few strokes, Clarke’s name escaping her lips in a surge of pleasure that floods Clarke’s fingers.

Clarke works her down slowly, flat laps and easy strokes until she draws out.

Looking down and cupping Clarke’s face, Lexa pulls Clarke up to reunite their lips, kissing the evidence of her orgasm off Clarke’s tongue. They gradually sink back into the tub, now noticeably less full.

∞

Lexa refills Clarke’s class with the remainder of the champagne before leaning back flush against Clarke’s chest.

“When do you think we should get out of the tub?”

Clarke checks her fingertips, complete raisins.

“Probably like 20 minutes ago.”

“Mm,” Lexa tilts her head back onto Clarke’s shoulder, “I could stay here forever,” closing her eyes and sipping the champagne.

“Speaking of here… did you want to look at another property around Vegas?”

Technically, they were still homeless and hadn’t discussed on where they’d be living.

“Hm.”

Clarke could feel the thoughts roam in her girlfriend’s mind.

“Well, did you want to find another place in Chicago? I can fly out of anywhere, but your magazine is based out of Chicago,” Lexa replies.

“I worked out a new schedule with Kane, I only have to be in Chicago a few days out of the month, so, not necessarily…”

“Oh,” Lexa replies with a novel line of thought, turning to look at Clarke briefly, “Then I suppose we can live in any major city with an international airport.”

This was new. They had the freedom to pick an entirely different location for a new home, together.

Clarke kicks off the conversation, “What about... LA?”

“Beaches are nice, but I’m not driving in that type of traffic and the mountains are too far away for my taste.”

“So, you want mountains?”

“I just like… an option for quiet seclusions.”

“But I like the city,” Clarke adds.

“Okay. What about… San Francisco?” Lexa counters, “The Redwoods are closer.”

“Mm… table that.”

“Okay.”

“Seattle?” Clarke offers.

“Hm, I do like Seattle despite the rain. Table?”

“Okay, two on the table. Minneapolis?”

“Too cold, I want four seasons, not nine months of winter.”

Clarke chuckles, causing the tub water to ripple. “Tampa?”

“Too hot, too many old people. New York?”

“Too… what’s the word I’m searching for, just too New York.”

“I gotcha,” Lexa on the same page. “Denver?”

“Oooo… table?”

“Three to table,” Lexa says like an auctioneer, “What about… DC?”

A long pause as Clarke considers.

“Three airports, Baltimore, Dulles, and Reagan. City life, with Shenandoah Mountains less than a couple of hours away and all four seasons?”

“Hm… I think we might have a winner,” replies Clarke.

“Yeah?” Lexa turns with sparkles in her eyes like a lit Christmas tree.

“Yeah,” says Clarke with equal contentment and anticipation.

Clarke holds up her glass, “DC it is?”

“DC it is,” Lexa replies, toasting their decision.

After sipping, she hears Clarke put the glass down on the tub edge and freed hands find Lexa’s shoulders. Clarke begins to knead and massage with nuzzles and kisses by her neck and ear.

“Oh my god, Clarke,” Lexa sighs, feeling the tension release form her shoulders at the result of Clarke’s hands.

“You’re so beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?” Clarke whispers into Lexa’s ear, causing Lexa to grin and reach across her chest to hold one of Clarke’s hands.

“You’re not the lucky one,” Lexa replies, tilting her face for just a few chaste pecks on the lips that slowly began to turn as she felt Clarke’s hands drift from her shoulders down her chest.

“Merry Christmas, Lexa.”

“Merry Christmas, Clarke.”

“I can’t wait to live with you in DC.”

“Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on tumblr, my inbox is always open! @thessclexa
> 
> This work of fiction is mine and is not representative of any locations/organizations depicted.


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